


What Are Friends For?

by AngeNoir



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Intimacy, minor miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faleron of King's Reach falls victim to Keladry's helpfulness, in part because seeing her again after so long made his tongue twist and his cheeks darken.</p><p>He was absolutely <em>not</em> going to tell her how long he had a crush on her.</p><p>Absolutely not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Are Friends For?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluffybun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffybun/gifts).



> I'm sorry if this is just a rip-off of Raoul/Buri's relationship, but I honestly could see Kel going 'hey, that worked once, let's do it again'
> 
> also rated explicit to be safe

Faleron of King’s Reach was bone-tired. He had been fighting off a cold the entire winter, and he had had a thankless stint on the border. The war with King Maggur might have been over, but that didn’t mean the tribes to the north thought they could stop raiding. Rather, it made their forays far more erratic and harder to predict, and every knight that could be spared had been sent over the winter to the north to run patrols. Most of it was thankless, boring work, and he spent more time aiding villages in rebuilding than actually working with his group to drive out raiders or pillagers.

Now, back in the palace, he was trying to duck his mother’s representative. Marriage was high on her mind, needing to cement the future for King’s Reach. He understood it, objectively.

Subjectively speaking, he wished for some measure of peace when he was in the palace.

He was sitting in the mess hall when long legs straddled the bench next to him and soft brown eyes smiled at him.

“Kel!” he said in surprise, tongue tied. She looked… amazing. Muscle bulged in her arms and thighs, and he felt his heart give a peculiar thud.

“I didn’t expect you here. Weren’t you on the northern border?” Kel asked, propping her chin up on her hand. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. That bit with King Maggur, wasn’t it?”

Faleron nodded, putting his utensils down to give her his full attention. “True. It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“So what’ve you been up to?” she asked, shifting to turn attention to her own plate, and he found it hard to pull his eyes away.

After a couple of seconds, she looked back up, lifting an eyebrow at him. Clearing his throat, he hastily said, “Oh – not much. Just patrols on the border, you know. Spent more times slogging through mud and rebuilding towns than anything else.”

She let out a laugh. “I hear you. My lord kept me running with refugee replacement and town rebuilding, too. Seems a lot of those fun tasks are never talked about, hmm?”

He ended up chuckling and turning back to his soup. “You’re telling me. My poor Askev has gotten more used to lifting barns than charging into battle, lately.”

“How bad is it in your parts?” Kel asked after taking a sip of her drink – cider, if he judged right.

Shrugging his shoulders eloquently, he explained, “I’m out by the Gallan border with Scanra, you know. Galla doesn’t want any of it spilling into their borders, but they’re facing some trouble with their own borders, so don’t patrol as closely as they could. Sometimes we get calls out to defend our border with Galla because Scanrans are slipping through the edges of it. It makes for interesting living.”

“I hear that,” Kel chuckled, and polished off the last bit of her food before nodding at another man, dressed in the King’s Own colors. “Well, how long are you with us, at least? I’m here until my lord figures out what to do with me, now that New Hope’s been broken down and made into a proper fort.”

“Oh – I’m waiting out these last dying gasps of winter into spring. Once spring comes around, I’ll have to head to King’s Reach and see what mess my cousin’s made of the books. It should be fine, really – he might not be the brightest of the lot, but he’s steady – but the way Mother’s been going on about it in her letters you’d think we’re about to declare bankruptcy and throw ourselves upon the king’s mercy.”

Grinning, Keladry patted Faleron on the back. “Thank goodness I’m not first-born, or father would be after _me_ about such things as well.”

It was an impulsive decision, one that he probably shouldn’t have listened to at all, but he blurted out, “Do you still enjoy discussing battle strategies and tactics? After the war and all?”

She had been getting ready to leave, and he watched as she paused, curious. “You mean – like the Midwinter before the war?”

He fought to control his blush – he had Bazhir coloring, but his cheeks still reddened when he was embarrassed, enough that others noticed – and cleared his throat. “It was interesting discussing things with you, because you have a different outlook on things. You’re more used to building fortresses, making the most out of little resources, while I’m more used to mounted fighting and quick forays through the woods. I enjoyed listening to your discussions with the others, and now that we’re all put to help rebuild, I figured your insights would be helpful. But now after the war, it might not be something interesting to casually discuss—”

“I don’t mind. I liked those discussions myself, after all. If you’re up for it, maybe tomorrow night – I got in today, and it’s been some hard riding. Peachblossom’s used to being with other horses but for some reason he took exception to Merric’s new mount.” Keladry laughed, and stood up. “But I’ll definitely be seeing you around. I’ve got to requisition more items, resupply – I’ll be here a few months, at least.”

And perhaps that shouldn’t perk him up, considering that he was first-born and unlikely to get a say in who his mother decided he wed, but he couldn’t help the shot of warmth in his chest. “We’ll be seeing each other frequently, then, since Mother’s representative is hounding my family’s holdings in the city.”

Chuckling, she exited the room, and he watched her go.

The man in the King’s Own uniform caught his eye, and he flushed a little. “She’s a good friend,” he began, and then he squinted. “I… know you. You were in the excursion into—”

“Into Scanra, yes. Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle. I rode in with Mindelan; she’s resupplying for our entire company, even if she won’t be heading it. Good head for numbers, that one.”

Faleron knew he had no reason to feel threatened, not when he had only just realized his own feelings and hadn’t even acted on them yet, but Domitan was giving him a very calculating look, and he was obviously someone important to Keladry. So he cleared his throat and agreed, “She always aided us with our maths, when we were pages. Had a good head for law and etiquette, as well, though her writing and penmanship left some to be desired.”

“She got better,” Domitan said, and Faleron wasn’t sure where this was going, but he nodded anyway.

“Of course she did,” he replied. “She became one of the best of us all.”

Domitan narrowed his eyes and finally said frankly, “I’m not going to accuse you of anything, because you two seemed friendly, but I’ve seen a few of her yearmates who either romanticized her, because of your ridiculous chivalric notions, or who insinuated she was easy. I don’t think you’re either, so I’m not going to warn you off.”

“Oh,” Faleron said weakly. “Well. Good.”

“I will say,” Domitan said casually, “that if you pressure or upset her in any way there’s quite a few people who will want to have words with you. Some even on the challenge fields. Me, I took the sensible route. I’m not a knight, so I don’t need to do it so nobly. I can just visit you in a hallway one day.”

Mildly indignant on behalf of Keladry more than himself – because he’d gotten into fights with his yearmates who insinuated the same things Domitan mentioned, so he understood Domitan’s intentions if not his misguided words – he pointed out, “That’s for her to decide. She can take care of herself, after all.”

After a few silent minutes, Domitan smiled. “That it is. I’m glad you realize it.”

***

Since dinner had been confusing and bewildering – confusing because he never realized how his low-level crush on Keladry had transformed into something much deeper, and bewildering because he could have sworn Domitan and Keladry had more than a ‘just-friends’ vibe, but he could be wrong – he retired to his rooms.

Only to find the King’s Reach representative within.

“Ah – Connor,” he managed.

“The Lady of King’s Reach, your mother, wishes you to make a trip at your earliest convenience. I have these reports she sent me with, and of course you are starting to reach past your prime, and she wishes you married as soon as possible. You’ve this off, and the Lady has sent a – truncated – list of eligible matches that would aid and support the lands. I have here also the census reports for—”

“Connor, if you could – leave those on my desk. I’ll get to them presently. I know she intends a visit to Corus soon—”

“She should be here within the week,” Connor sniffed.

He narrowed his eyes at the representative – Connor had never enjoyed Faleron’s lenient hand on the reins, and took pleasure in reminding Faleron of his duties, and in turn Faleron detested the man’s sanctimonious nature – and repeated, “Just leave them on my desk. I’ll deal with them presently, and discuss with my mother the necessary steps to secure our holdings. I know Americ has been doing well by the holdings, and I doubt much of his work will need correcting.”

“Sir Faleron—”

“I really must be going now,” Faleron said, and turned on his heel. Connor could of course follow him, but it would require running after him and discussing King’s Reach in public, which a well-trained representative would never do. Before Connor could figure out how to corner him, Faleron aimed for the nearest library and immediately ensconced himself in the stacks of the legal books and proceedings he loved so much. It was unlikely Connor would find him here, at least not immediately, and Faleron took a book down from a shelf and sat down at a table before massaging the bridge of his nose. His mother worried more and more these days, in part because his father was very ill, and the healers could not do much for him other than ease the pain. She wanted to secure grandchildren, wanted his father around to see him marry, wanted Faleron to be happy, and he understood that. He just didn’t know how to tell her that he wasn’t ready for marriage, not yet. Not until he saw that the job of the knights of the realm didn’t require so much traveling, so much danger. He didn’t want to marry and have a wife who was isolated and alone half the year or more because he was out securing the safety of their borders. He didn’t want to go over Americ’s decisions because Americ really didn’t do badly by their holdings. Granted, he had this notion that they could become horse breeders, and so wasted money in that direction, but the lands themselves were doing fine, if a bit pinched by this second late winter that was cutting into the planting time. And the reports on the growing cities in their lands only sparked old arguments between him and his parents, specifically in regard to the fact that growing cities meant growing crime and increased risk for bandits. Kel and her progressive ideals could be held responsible for those fights, slightly, but it was mostly common sense to him when he offered his solutions of delegating governing responsibility to town councils instead of insisting in magistrates who reported directly to the liege-lord – particularly since the liege-lord was ill, and Americ didn’t have the patience to deal with people, preferring to deal with numbers and animals.

“An upsetting author?”

Faleron startled, and nearly went over backward in his chair when the voice sounded loudly in the otherwise quiet room. “Kel!” he said in surprise.

She was dressed casually, a book in her hands – a treatise on the Immortals War – but her eyes were worried. “Faleron. I didn’t expect to see you _this_ soon.”

“Ah. Yes, I – wanted to read some. Distract my mind.” He smiled weakly, and inwardly quailed when she sat down across from him and met his gaze levelly.

Finally, she sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Marriage problems.”

He paled, and then flushed red. “What?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first. Not much of our yearmates are first-born children – Merric certainly isn’t – and yet his aunt’s been hounding him for the past nine months, ever since the war officially ended, even if it really hasn’t. I recognize the look. Neal had it easier, as did Roald – well, Roald’s wife was picked for him. Neal picked his own and his father and mother couldn’t really have any objections. But you? Merric? Seaver, Esmond, even Quinden – their representatives have been lurking around the palace, last time I was here.” Keladry smiled lopsidedly. “I, thankfully, am neither the oldest, nor required to provide grandchildren when my brothers have already done so. Not that it doesn’t stop comments from family members, but my parents at least aren’t pushing for it, which makes it easier.”

Faleron sighed. “It wouldn’t bother me so much if she didn’t grasp onto it so tightly. It’s the only thing that will make her happy and I don’t know what to do. The girls she’s chosen… she’s grasping at straws, and part of it is because of my father’s illness, but most of it is because she’s certain I’ll end up dead if I stay longer on the border, and she wants grandchildren. I’m expected to meet with her, since she gets into the capital two days from now, and if my family’s representative is any indication, she’s not letting this go at all.”

“Don’t you have younger siblings?” Keladry asked, frowning.

“I do,” Faleron admitted, “but the twins were very late in coming. Next year they’ll be old enough to start page training, if they want, but…” He shrugged. “I understand, even if I don’t particularly like it.”

Kel drummed her fingers on the table a bit before shrugging. “There’s not much I can do. The only thing I can think of is what I offered Lord Raoul; find someone to go with you to meet her, make it look like you’re considering someone, at least while she’s here in the capital.”

Faleron laughed. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to subject anyone to my mother. You haven’t met her.”

His heart seized up when instead of laughing it off, Kel looked at him speculatively. “I could,” she said slowly. “I haven’t anywhere I particularly need to be for the next few weeks, and there’s not much that can bother me.”

“No, Kel, I don’t think you understand—”

“It’ll just be a small favor, nothing big,” she continued. “And it won’t jeopardize anything because the king is forever sending us out on assignments; your mother can’t even fault you for ‘losing’ me when you can say it was the king’s order. I have to visit my own parents – rather, my father; my mother stayed at Mindelan – but all other evenings I’m free, if you want.”

Faleron wanted to believe the reason he agreed was because it would be churlish to refuse, but when Keladry smiled at him like that – and gave him a way out of his mother’s probing questions – all common sense left his mind.

“It’ll be exactly like how Lord Raoul and Commander Buri handled his family a few Midwinters ago,” Keladry said with satisfaction, rising from the table. “Don’t you worry about it; I’ll be glad to help.”

He watched her go, and knew he was _definitely_ going to worry about it.

***

“So,” Faleron said slowly.

“So,” Kel agreed.

She was an expert at hiding her true thoughts, he remembered desperately – the cruel nicknames and insults echoing in his ears. She could be acting pleasant for his benefit.

“She really… is like that all the time, I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I did – I did try to warn you, you know—”

Kel looked at him with a faint smile. “No, I know, Faleron. And I was happy to do it, believe it or not. I just – need to think a bit.”

Faleron watched her mount up and ride down the Corus streets, back to the palace. With a sigh, he dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He really ought to buy her something nice, like some tea or a book on some wars, somewhere – something to thank her for putting up with his mother.

It wasn’t even like his mother was _bad_ – he’d seen much worse in nobility – it was just that she… _fluttered_.

Fussed and complained, moving around, light-headed and airy and completely unwilling to do the most basic, menial tasks for herself. Part of that was just the way she had been raised, from a very strict and old noble family, and part of that was just… the way she was. His father had doted on her but even in his youth Faleron had dreaded trying to have a talk with her on anything beyond the colors that were in season at the court – and even that could be a pitfall, if she was particularly flighty that day. It took a certain amount of skill to wrangle his mother into any type of concrete, rational discussion.

For Kel, it must’ve been horrible.

He felt both mildly defensive – it was his _mother_ , after all – and resigned, for he knew exactly what a trial she could be. It wasn’t so late that all of the shops were closed; he could get something and try to smooth this over with Kel right now, before it got any worse.

Armed with his purchases – some tea leaves and a sturdy but elegant tea set – he made his way back to the palace and stabled his horse.

“You’re back early.”

Faleron turned to see Stefan, hay in his hair, squinting at him from the darkness. “I’m – I was hoping to catch Kel,” he said hesitantly.

Stefan frowned. “Didn’t she go out with you?”

Faleron paused. If she wasn’t here, where would she have gone? Maybe her own family’s house in the capital? If she wasn’t here, though, there wasn’t much he could do except wait for her to come back. Sighing, he finished watering his horse and made his way to his rooms in the palace.

He’d find her tomorrow, he supposed, and would fret over it all evening, but… he’d find her tomorrow. Apologize, and thank her. Maybe they could finally have that discussion about how to build fortresses in ways that would be close to impenetrable. It didn’t help him settle down – he tossed and turned half the night, trying to figure out what he could have done differently with his mother – but he’d always done better with a plan of action instead of trying to wing it.

***

The next afternoon, he was finished in the training yards and drying his neck with a small towel when Kel leaned against the fences and smiled at him. “Big lad like you needs a real challenge, I would think.”

He looked around – he had been sparring with Merric and Seaver – and while they were in fact shorter than him, they were equal his skill. Still, he grinned easily. “You volunteering?”

She entered the training yard and took up a practice sword – dull, but still sharp enough to sting and raise welts, or even cut if wielded right. “I’ll have to remember you come out here earlier than I do, to join you. You want a handicap, since I’m fresh?”

“How much you offering?” he asked, laughing.

“Hmm. Two strikes?” Seaver offered.

She looked at him and grinned. “Two strikes handicap. You ready?”

He picked up a practice sword and swung it. “Sure. Why not.”

They circled one another, small feints forward and back, and then Kel came forward like a landslide, sword twirling and slamming home. He barely managed to dodge to the side and parry, and then the sparring began in earnest.

In the end, she won – though he’d contend that it was only because he was worn out, and she was definitely breathing hard, sweaty and tired, after it. They shared some border stories, Seaver making mention of the lingering cold that made winter hold tighter, even to the lower lands of Tortall, and how his family were going to lose valuable planting time unless the chill eased up earlier this year than it did the last.

“That reminds me,” Faleron said, turning to Kel. “You didn’t have to come with me to Mother’s, so I have a small gift for you in my quarters, if you’re heading that way.”

She gave him a funny look, but followed him gamely, making light talk about Tobe spending more time with Stefan than her now, and how she’d miss the refugee folk she’d been taking care of all this time.

Stepping into his quarters, he moved closer to the night stand where the carefully wrapped box was. The door closing behind him surprised him, and he turned to see Kel striding over to him.

“Kel, are you—”

She cut off his words with a soft, almost hesitant kiss, and he barely reacted, more in shock than anything. When she pulled away, she said in a slightly unsteady voice, “I’m not ready to settle down.”

“I know,” he said, dazed.

“I like you, but more as a good friend, but I think this could work. Right?”

“Right,” he repeated, trying to figure out what this behavior could mean.

She nodded, almost briskly, and said, “So do you want to do this?”

“I – um.” He took a deep, steadying breath, and repeated, “Just one night?”

“Or more, I’m not averse, I’m just saying that I don’t intend to settle down or have kids,” she said.

“Oh.” He licked his lips, already missing the taste of her, and said awkwardly, “Well, I do want this, if you do—”

“Great,” she said, pushing forward again, hands going to his waist, thumb curling against his lower abdomen, and he exhaled sharply – which was when she pressed her lips to his again, and he found himself willingly stepping back to the bed, sitting down hard as she slowly leaned over him, letting her lips explore his.

He kissed back enthusiastically, one hand tangling in her hair and the other curving around her back, cupping a little as she kissed him breathless. It seemed like mere seconds – though it was probably minutes upon minutes, before Faleron found his trousers and shirt askew, and Kel’s shirt was undone and open, her leather jerkin unlaced and the soft lines of her breasts clear from the material.

“Undress,” she whispered, eyes eager, and she pulled back from him and promptly tripped, falling on her ass. Faleron found himself breathless with laughter, pushing up to pull off his shirt and shove down his trousers – only to tangle them on his (forgotten) boots.

It was her turn to laugh, and she helped yank off his boots and stockings before pouncing like a great she-cat, pinning him to the bed, her pregnancy charm bouncing on her chest. She was softer than she looked; harder than any other woman he’d tumbled before. She rose above him and he stroked his hands over her thighs, her belly, cupped her breasts and then dropped to her ass, helping drive her down to meet his thrusts.

After, Kel sprawled out over his chest, her cooling body hot against him, her paler skin tracing patterns over his darker color, he weakly pointed to the box. “There. That’s your gift. If you want it.”

She froze, and lifted her head off of his pillow. “What?”

“Your gift, for dealing with my mother even though she upset you,” he murmured, tired and lazy after a good round of exertion.

He stared at her as her cheeks slowly filled with color. It took him a minute before he cottoned on.

“You… thought I was joking, about having a gift?”

“I thought you were using an old line to get me up to your quarters,” she mumbled, and she looked so flustered that he nearly started laughing. Instead, he blinked at her until the true meaning of what she had said sunk in – and why Seaver and Merric had made hasty excuses not to hold either of them up.

His own cheeks starting to color, he cleared his throat. “No I – I mean, I enjoyed what we had, but – no, I really meant I had a gift. I had meant to give it to you yesterday evening, since you were – since you were upset. I just didn’t get to see you later that night.”

She dropped her face to his chest, and for a minute he was worried that she was crying – her shoulders shook, and her mouth was open against his skin – but before he could truly work himself into a panic she leaned back and her giggles filled the air. “Oh Mithros,” she gasped. “Your face!”

Faleron blushed even deeper, if that was possible, and she poked a finger into his ribs. “Your mother didn’t upset me, Faleron. She merely mentioned that you had a crush on me for a long while, and I was worried you’d take this more seriously than I was ready for.”

“Oh,” he said intelligently, and then cleared his throat. “I – you are – I’m really not this thick all the time,” he finally offered.

With a small smile, she lowered herself back to the bed, snickering a little. “I know,” she said, forcing her voice to be calm. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you have against Scanra.”

“You do seem to throw me for a loop,” Faleron sighed, closing his eyes. “I was going to try to be charming about it. We’d discuss battle strategies and then I’d offer to walk you to your room. Maybe romance you a bit, since we both have time. But I know you’re still in the field, and honestly Mother wants grandchildren immediately. This may have put her off until I can find someone a bit more suitable than these young girls she’s throwing at me, but I understood that.”

Kel sighed. “You’re chivalrous, I’ll give you that. But your mother wasn’t that bad. A bit much, but terribly sweet. Ask her to look into the holdings north, not south, of yours.”

“She’d have a cow,” Faleron said, eyes popping open to imagine his mother’s reaction.

Kel hummed. “But it’s still a good idea. I know that she might not find great lineages, or rough ‘country-cousins,’ but they’re as noble as she is and that widens the pool to find people closer to your age.”

With a sigh, Faleron curved an arm around Kel’s waist. “I’ll mention it to my representative. At the very least, she needs to broaden her search. The last girl she mentioned to me was thirteen.”

“Ouch,” Kel remarked sleepily.

Faleron found himself following her into sleep.


End file.
